


Home Under the Moon

by CrossroadProphet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2248152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossroadProphet/pseuds/CrossroadProphet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Throughout every wizarding war, Lyall Lupin has always been there to wait for his son to come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Under the Moon

Despite the wars that raged on around him, or perhaps in spite of them, Lyall Lupin lived a quiet life in a small cottage outside a little wizarding village. The cottage was nothing spectacular, bought during a time when the Lupins moved so frequently to protect their son's secret that no place was ever really home, but that is precisely what this cottage became.

It was in this cottage, the last in a long line of similar little houses on the outskirts of little villages, that Albus Dumbledore appeared one day to inform the weary family that yes, Hogwarts would still welcome their afflicted son. And it was this home that his son Remus returned to every holiday when he wasn’t off with his friends, although that was a very long time ago.

The cottage was meant for a family of three, but these days only housed one. His dear Hope had died many years ago, but her memory lived on in the house and because of that he would not leave until the day she came to take his hand once more. Hope was dead, but she was not gone. She was there in the brilliant sun catchers that glittered in the kitchen windows, in the heirloom quilts in the bedrooms, and in the robin egg blue of the kitchen. This was the home his wife last knew, and no home would be home without her.

But there was another reason Lyall refused to leave and that reason was Remus. His son who had lost so much, so young did not need to lose his home too, even if he had not acknowledged it as such in years. He always said he didn’t want to be a burden, but he failed to see that no son could burden their father. If anything, Lyall was the burden, the very reason Remus had been bitten was, after all, because of Lyall’s scathing bigotry, but still Remus insisted on handling himself.

The last time Remus had really called the cottage home, the first war was raging across the countryside. Hogwarts graduates, Remus and his friends had dove head first into the war. He spent his days between homes and missions, making Lyall promise not to worry over him. Lyall had never been a duelist, but Remus had grown into a fine one under fire. He was a member of the Order before he was eighteen and Lyall knew his promise had been in vain.

Whenever Remus came home he was covered in blood, not always his, but often enough. He’d sleep like the dead in a bed too small for him now, with his wand within reach, and often be gone again before Lyall could even make breakfast.

Some days he wasn’t alone. Lyall remembered once grabbing his wand in the middle of the night when a door crashed open below, only to find Remus supporting a nearly unconscious woman with hair like firelight. He’d given her his bed and sat over her for the night. Around dawn, Lyall let in his son’s school friend, James, and he too joined Remus in silent vigil. By noon, Lyall had forced the lot of them to eat something and sit down long enough to do so before all three of them were off again.

Most days, however, Remus was not home at all. He went on missions for the Order frequently and as the war raged on Remus would disappear for longer and longer periods of time. He came back tired and bloody, and he would repeat the cycle every time. Even when he wasn’t out on business, he moved between homes of other Order members. Potter, Black, Longbottom, and some days, some few days, he would come home and assure his father that he was alive, that things would be okay.

When the war ended, if the war ended, Lyall hoped Remus would come home for good, would let himself be taken care of instead of insisting on licking his wounds alone. But when the war did end, Lyall knew there was little hope of that.

While the wizarding world rejoiced at the defeat of the Dark Lord, the Lupins mourned, all too aware of the cost at which the peace came. Remus did not speak for days. He sat in silence, with cooling tea between his hands, and stared at nothing for hours on end. Lyall knew that look, he was familiar with seeing it in the mirror when Hope passed. It was the look of grief, of knowing a loved one was gone and never coming back, and he only wished for Remus it was just a loved one, just one, but he knew the price of peace.

Edgar Bones. Benjy Fenwick. Fabian Prewett. Gideon Prewett. Dorcas Meadowes. Marlene McKinnon. Alice Longbottom. Frank Longbottom. Peter Pettigrew. Lily Potter. James Potter.

And perhaps worst of all was a different loss. Sirius Black.

The first friends his son had had, the best friends who stood with him despite his curse, were gone, all lost in the very same night because of one of their own. Lyall couldn’t have imagined anything worse than Remus’s attack as a boy befalling his son, but now he didn’t have to.

They attended the funerals for Pettigrew and for the Potters together, but once Lily and James were laid to rest in Godric’s Hollow, Remus packed his bag and he left. Whether it was because he didn’t think his father deserved to live with a werewolf, or because Remus could not live in a home so associated with the happier years of his life, he did not say nor did he stay another night.

This time, he didn’t come home in a few months time, and the only sign of him around the holidays now were the owls he managed to send. Lyall hoped it was temporary, and even as the months became years, he refused to give up hope, just as he would never leave Hope behind.

The years stretched on and Lyall retired from his Ministry work. He was friendly with the villagers nearby, went every Tuesday to Agatha Greywood’s for tea, and went on living an otherwise quiet life in his son’s absence.

It wasn’t until the Prophet once again featured names like Potter and Black, when the disappearances started to foretell darker days ahead once more, did Lyall see his son again.

There was a knock at his door one evening and on the other side was a man Lyall scarcely recognized. He wore a tattered and patched traveling cloak that had long since seen better days and carried a single rucksack with him. The scars that had seemed to fade in his youth were prominent once more on pale skin and his eyes, once soft like honey, had turned to hardened amber. But his hair was just as uncontrollable as it had been when he was a boy.

They looked at each other in silence for awhile before Remus managed a smile and said, “Hello dad,” and Lyall pulled him into a fierce hug.

They sat at the table, tea forgotten between them, as Remus apologized for his self imposed exile the last fifteen years. But there was something else he wanted to say though the words seemed to constantly evade him.

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?” Lyall asked and Remus nodded.

“I want you to know the truth.”

He told him all about that had happened in the last three years, the things the Prophet only barely acknowledged. He explained all about the Dark Lord’s return, about Pettigrew’s betrayal and escape, about Black’s innocence and untimely death, and about a young boy who had so much more on his shoulders than anyone had the right to and the friends who were willing to burden it all with him.

There was a sad smile on Remus’s face. “He’s so much like his father,” he said. “Ready to take on the world if it means everyone else will be safe.”

They sat again in silence for awhile before Remus turned the conversation to lighter news. “Her name’s Nymphadora, but she’ll hex you blind for even thinking of calling her that. She’s Tonks, and she’s brilliant.”

“You sound smitten.”

He watched Remus flush and shake his head and it was as though he were in school again. “I’m far too old for her.”

“Does she think that?”

“Even if she doesn’t, that doesn’t change what I am.”

“What you are, Remus Lupin, is a good man.”

Remus looked up at him, perhaps to argue, but thought better of it and ducked his head again, pretending to sip at his tea.

To Lyall’s dismay, though not his surprise, Remus didn’t stay very long. There was Order business to attend to and various other things he needed to see to for Dumbledore and the rest. They hugged again, Remus made the pitiful promise that he would try to write more often, and he disappeared before he even reached the gate.

He did write, though infrequent as ever. Sometimes he sent clippings of the Prophet with his own annotations attached, correcting truths and scratching out lies. Other times it was just a single note to tell his father he was still alive when the disappearances were becoming more frequent.

One owl came with just a photograph of Remus smiling beside a turquoise haired young woman. They were laughing together, arms around each other, and a note on that back that read: _We’ll come by to introduce you to your daughter-in-law as soon as we can._

But that was the last owl Lyall received before the war could be ignored no longer.

Harry Potter was Undesirable No. 1 and all those who called themselves his friends and allies were not terribly far behind. The Ministry had fallen into the hands of Dark Wizards at last, and now no one was safe. Death Eaters had power, were taking it everywhere they could, and suddenly things were so much worse than the first war had ever been.

He didn’t hear from Remus for weeks. He set wards around his home and barely went into the village if he could help it.

One day a wolf patronus burst through his kitchen window, landing on all fours on his kitchen table and his son’s voice could be heard, hushed and hurried, but his voice none the less. It wasn’t safe. Harry was alive. And then he passed on a radio frequency before wishing his father to keep safe as the patronus vanished.

Lyall dug out his old radio and set it to the frequency his son had found so important to share with him. It was the Order’s frequency, rather a show called Potterwatch. Code names were used to describe the movements of the rebel witches and wizards fighting for all of them. When it could connect, it gave an updated list of those poor souls who were missing, whose code names would do them no good, and whatever news it could.

He dared not to turn it off, always careful to change frequencies when directed. Throughout the day, everyday, Lyall listened, even if it was only static air. He cracked a smile the few times the host spoke of Romulus’s movements, and Lyall knew his son was alright.

Then, one night out of the blue, the station erupted in static before a voice, not the usual host, River, announced that Lightning had struck the tower. Lyall, like so many others, held his breath.

Harry Potter’s movements after the incident at the Ministry, were utterly undocumented. A few times his safety had been confirmed when the ‘skies seemed stormy near’ another Order member, but this was different. This was entirely different.

The station was a mess of static and codes were shouted back and forth as a dozen different voices chimed in out of nowhere. Once he thought he heard Remus confirming something with the wizard called Royal, but he couldn’t be sure. And then, just as quickly as it happened, the entire station went silent.

Lyall stepped out into his garden and looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in and he knew in his heart that this was it, this was when everything was to change. “You watch out for him, Hope,” he whispered to the sky. A wind blew through the garden and he remained still until it settled.

For the rest of the night he sat beside his radio, his wand laying between it and him, and did as he always did. He waited for Remus to come home.

All through the night, the radio was silent. Lyall did not sleep. The dawn broke and the sun rose and it was not until it was high in the sky did the radio crackle to life.

“The Dark Lord is dead. I repeat, the Dark Lord is dead. Last night, Harry Potter arrived at Hogwarts with the war at his heels,” River spoke carefully, every word heavy. “Hogwarts became a battlefield as all members of the Order of the Phoenix and The Dark Lord’s army came head to head. Students were ushered to safety, although many older students stayed to fight. This morning, after a near loss, Harry Potter once again survived the attack of the Dark Lord and ended his reign once and for all. However, victory did not come without a price. Already the casualty count is high and the castle grounds are still being combed for the wounded and the dead. Potterwatch would like every witch and wizard listening to offer a moment of silence for those who gave their lives before celebrating the end of these dark times.”

Lyall let out a breath and put his hands over his eyes. He was shaking, tears biting at his eyes. It was over. It was really over.

He thought of rushing to Hogwarts, offering some sort of aid, but he was an old retired wizard. He didn’t know what good he would do exactly. No doubt others were having similar thoughts and Hogwarts was already in disarray. He doubted he would even find his son in the chaos. It was best to wait.

It was a few days before the knock came at his door. Lyall barely hesitated in opening it and was immediately hit by an old memory. The young man at his door looked so very like his father. He half expected young Black and Pettigrew to pop their heads in the doorway and ask if Remus was ready to go for one of their summer adventures. But this wasn’t 1976 and this boy had green eyes and a lightning scar.

“Harry Potter,” Lyall whispered. And before he could ask the champion of the wizarding world what he was doing on Lyall Lupin’s doorstep, he felt his heart drop and he simply knew. “He’s not coming home, is he?”

Lyall’s hands were shaking as he tried to make tea, earl grey, Remus’s favorite when he was a boy and it pained Lyall to realize he didn’t know if it still was, would never know. At one point his hands were shaking so that Harry came over and offered to take care of it, but Lyall told him no, he was a guest, he’d done so much, Lyall could at least do this.

“He’s going to be remembered as a hero,” he distantly heard Harry say.

But Remus was already a hero, Lyall wanted to say. For everything he’d been through, for surviving what he had. No one could have done what his son, what his Remus had done.

“There will be a ceremony at Hogwarts, to honour everyone who died in the battle...”

“What of his wife? What happened to Tonks?” he asked. Would he see her there? Would that be how he met his daughter-in-law? While they said goodbye to his son?

“Her name will also be read at the ceremony,” Harry said. “She died with Remus. They fought together that night. I don’t know what happened, there was so much happening... But they were together.”

Lyall didn’t know what to say. Was he supposed to be happy about this? That his son had found someone to fight along until the very end with? So he said nothing, even when Harry came up beside him.

“Before...before the battle, Remus asked me to be his son’s godfather.”

Lyall turned towards Harry, face pale. “I have a grandson? Remus... had a son?”

Harry looked about as lost as Lyall felt. “Yes,” he said. “I’m sorry... I thought you knew.”

“Remus’s letters stopped coming when it got dangerous... He didn’t want to risk exposing himself or me... He truly has a son?”

“Yes. Edward Remus Lupin, though they called him Teddy.”

“Where is he now?” Lyall felt he was far too old to be raising a child and Harry far too young, but if this baby had no where else to go Lyall would figure something out.

“Andromeda Tonks, his grandmother, she was watching him while Tonks and Remus fought. She’s already agreed to take him in,” Harry said. And Lyall saw something in his eyes that told him Harry was glad about this, or as glad as he could be. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you came by to see him when you could. He deserves to hear as many stories about his father as he will his mother. They died trying to give him the best life they could... he deserves to know that.”

Lyall covered his eyes with his hand and quickly nodded his head. “I’d like that,” he said, trying desperately to keep his voice even. “I’d like very much to know him.”

Harry scribbled a note about how to get in touch with Andromeda and promised to see Lyall at the ceremony and at the private funeral for Remus and Nymphadora Lupin before finally going on his way when Lyall had assured him he’d be okay. The tea had never been made, but no one mentioned it as Lyall showed him the door. And like his son those years ago, Harry was gone before he even reached the gate.

Lyall shut the door and turned back to face his little cottage home. He’d lived alone for more than twenty years now, and never had it seemed so empty. He looked to the sun catchers still glittering on in the windows, like his world hadn’t just shattered. His eyes burned with tears, but Lyall’s gaze never broke. “I told you to look out for him, Hope... not to take his hand.”


End file.
